


Vintage Suit

by juliusschmidt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, you tell ME what's happening in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliusschmidt/pseuds/juliusschmidt
Summary: Louis takes off his Halloween costume.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 31
Kudos: 57
Collections: 1D Trick Or Treat Fest 2020





	Vintage Suit

The Times:  
November 1, 1974  
Heartthrob Harry Styles' (27) plane disappears All Hallow's Eve mid-flight over the Atlantic. The young star is believed to have been rushing home, despite terrible storms, to meet his lover. 

~

October 31, 2019 

Louis connects his phone to his speaker and hits play on Harry's album. 

The opening guitar riff sets on end the little hairs all over his arms. Then, Harry's voice picks up the same riff, and his opening words slide down Louis' spine and settle heavy somewhere around his balls. 

He slinks out of the orange and brown suit jacket he's been wearing all night. It now smells of sweat and smoke and beer, but he's still buzzing from the find. The 70s flash of color, the silky pull of the fabric across his shoulders, the flare of the pants-- perfect Styles. 

Sure, Louis' too short, and not nearly dark or curly enough to fool anyone into thinking he's the popstar resurrected. 

But his friends guessed his costume in one go. Even dense ol' Liam didn't suggest 'disco daddy' or some shit like that. 

Louis loosens the the tie from around his neck and then lets it drop to the floor. He frowns at the poster of Harry affixed to the wall over his bed. 

The tie had been a bit of a compromise. He hadn't wanted wear it. 

But he couldn't get Harry's voice out of his head. Harry low, rough tone, mocked, _Are you or are you not committed to the look?_

Louis _is_ committed. 

Eyes still on the photo of Harry, he begins to unbutton his shirt. He'd gone full retro, and so these buttons are smaller and more loosely fastened than he's used to. 

His fingers fumble several times before the shirt falls open, revealing a smattering of chest hair and then a thicker line of it leading from his navel to his fly. 

Louis teases one of his now bare nipples. And he's not sure if Harry's throaty chuckle comes from the track that's playing or somewhere else, somewhere closer. 

He doesn't care. 

Harry may have been dead for decades, but just a glance at any photo of him and Louis finds himself unaccountably horny. 

Louis draws in a shaky breath, fingers dipping down to his fly. 

"It's not fair, you know," Louis tells Harry's photograph in a rasping voice. "You're too good looking. It's unnatural." 

Again, that throaty laugh ripples through the room, through Louis. 

Louis slides the pants over his hips and peels them off his thighs. They land softly in a pile at his feet. 

He steps out of them, naked. 

His cock's half hard, and Louis reaches for it, stroking it to fullness. 

His breath is coming quicker now. With another glance at Harry's photo, he moves onto his knees on the bed. 

One hand remains on his cock and while the other cards through his hair, runs across his nape and shoulders, tugs at each nipple, caresses the skin at first one hip and then the other. 

The chorus of the song builds to a crescendo and Louis can't help but speed his strokes. 

He lets the words, Harry's words, Harry's throaty bass wrap 'round him, tight. 

His breath hitches. 

Just a few more strokes and he'll come; he can feel the pressure building. 

Before he comes, he wants Harry to see, to _know_ , how hard he's tried.

"Did you like it?" he gasps. 

Harry hits the last high note and holds it, and Louis can feel the vibrations shuddering through him. 

Another pull and he comes, covering the sheet and the wall just below Harry. 

Louis closes his eyes, heart pounding, breathing in quick, shallow pants. 

"Harry," Louis can't keep the pleading from his voice, as he asks again, "Did you like it?" 

Louis' eyes meet the green ones a few inches higher than his own. 

The eyes blink closed and then open again. 

Styles' mouth twists into a smile, dimple popping. He says, "Very, very good."

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr post


End file.
